


Changed

by ElwritesFanworks



Series: Male Mahariel (with Past Love!Tamlen) 'Verse [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dalish Issues, Drabble, Fantastic Racism, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sequel, small sad thing i wrote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwritesFanworks/pseuds/ElwritesFanworks
Summary: Thanarel finds himself changed by grief and by his life as a Grey Warden.





	Changed

* * *

He names the mabari after Tamlen. It is a small comfort but brings him some flicker of gratification that there is, at least, a memorial to his friend. The warhound takes to him quickly and he takes delight in teaching it secret commands in elvish for his own amusement. He has trained the dog to sneak up behind people and startle them – something that is, increasingly, annoying people in Camp – and that, too, is gratifying. Even now that he’s forced to rely on them, it does him some good to see shem squirm.

Alistair is the one he finds himself teasing the most, and only partly because he knows it will be well-received. Alistair is handsome – there is no way around that – and sometimes, if he shuts his eyes when they are walking together, scouting for game or putting down darkspawn, it feels so much like he is hunting with Tamlen again that it makes his throat close up in grief.

“Tamlen’s a Dalish name, right?” Alistair is asking, golden and glorious. Thanarel nods, red hair falling into his face.

“Does it mean something?”

“To me,” he says curtly, “yes. To you, no.”

“Who –”

“An old friend. He’s dead now. We used to hunt like this.”

_And kill any shems we came across, Keeper’s will be damned._

“A brother in arms, then?”

“We caught prey together,” Thanarel said flatly. “We killed things for fun and because we had to. We used to suck each other off and talk about a future shared between us. Then he touched a tainted mirror and was gone.”

“Oh,” Alistair blinked, brow creasing. “I’m so sorry – to lose someone is hard enough but to have no assurance they’re even dead – that they could have just become some hideous abomination – sorry. Sorry, I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”

“How? You’re only speaking the truth. Alive or dead, the Tamlen I loved is gone.”

He stared at his fingernails – there was old blood under them. Darkspawn clung to everything, even after you killed them.

“You did love him, then? I mean… love-love? Only – I’m sorry. I’ve never heard of it before.”

“You’ve never heard of two men together?”

“N-not in love, no. Just… for fun, yes, but love… I never though that could happen.”

“Why could it not? It is no different from falling in love with a woman.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know either way, would I? Oh, here I go again. Shut up, Alistair! I really _am_ sorry about your friend. No one deserves to go out like that.”

“It is over,” Thanarel said flatly. He thought of his pleasure when he killed for sport with Tamlen and shuddered. Death had become so commonplace now. _Who was I to hand it out before?_

“It is not just Tamlen who is gone,” he said softly. “The Thanarel he loved would never have fought to protect human villages or given a damn for any of it. I find, looking back upon myself, that I am entirely new.”

“Being a Grey Warden changes you – not just through the nightmares.”

Thanarel nodded and was struck with a perplexing urge to weep like a child. He turned away sharply, but not before Alistair saw.

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me. Like how you listened to me about Duncan, right? We’re friends. I’ll help you, if I can.”

He was adrift, and the hand that reached to help him was unfamiliar. A shem’s hand. Also familiar. Alistair’s hand.

“I will try,” he forced out. “I will try to trust you as I should.”


End file.
